Homecoming (34 page)

“I know. I know.” Becca closed her eyes and shivered. She was about to cry again. Jill could see it coming. “We broke up because I was so controlling. But I’ve been in therapy, Jill. I’m
changing
.”

“That’s good,” she said, sick to her stomach with the knowledge that she was going to have to lower the boom. “That’s really good, Becca.”

She moved a little closer, close enough so Jill could look right into her warm brown eyes, now streaked with evidence of her tears. “I’m changing for you. So you’ll give me another chance.”

Oh, shit! “I don’t think—”

The back door slammed, sending the dog into a frenzy of barking. The cats, their bellies almost touching the floor, slithered out from their hiding places and shot past Daisy, who dashed after them, a mass of golden and gray fur flying across the room and down the stairs.

Jill ran behind, and was just halfway down when the kitchen door opened and Lizzie stood there, holding Daisy in her arms as the dog licked her face. “You bought me a puppy!”

“No!” Jill stopped abruptly. “It’s not mine.” She looked up the stairs and pointed. “It’s Becca’s.”

Lizzie’s gaze traveled up the stairs and landed on the door to Jill’s bedroom. “Becca’s in your room?”

Jill had never so desperately wanted a woman to emerge from her bedroom—to clearly show she was fully dressed and literally just passing by. But Becca was obviously not in the mood to come out.

“Uh-huh.” Jill had no idea what else to add. She knew she looked like an idiot, but she couldn’t get her feet to move her in either direction.

“Okaaaaay,” Lizzie said, with much more grace under pressure than Jill possessed. “Then I guess I’ll take off.”

“No! Don’t leave. Just…” She had no idea what she wanted her to do—other than fix this mess.

“I’ll take the dog out into the yard.” Before Jill could agree that was a good idea, both Lizzie and Daisy were gone.

Trudging up the stairs, Jill tried to figure out how this had all transpired. A simple afternoon of cutting the grass had turned into a noisy, emotional mess. One she was certain she hadn’t asked for.

Becca was standing by the window, looking out. She couldn’t have seen much, but as Jill got closer, she saw that her gaze was unfocused. “Hey,” Jill said, as she put her hand on Becca’s shoulder.

“I can’t decide who to be more embarrassed in front of,” Becca said, her voice flat and lifeless. “You or my replacement.”

“That’s not fair,” Jill said quietly. “You haven’t been replaced. It’s not like buying a new car.”

Becca turned and regarded her coldly. “It’s not? How’s it different? Once you get rid of the old one, it’s out of your life forever.”

Stung, Jill tried to hold back, but her mouth started talking before she could stop it. “I’ve never had a car refuse to see me, or talk to me or veer across a path to avoid me on campus. A car’s never told my friends to never talk about it with me. A car’s never taken a dog I loved away and refused to let me see it.”

“That’s because you never broke up with a car with no warning!” Her eyes slammed shut and she let out a frustrated breath. “Can we stop talking about cars for God’s sake!”

“Yes. We can.” Jill moved away, going to the far side of the room to lean against a tall chest. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Becca. I really am. But things weren’t working for me, and I had no reason to think they’d improve.”

“How can things improve when you don’t give anyone a chance? People can change, Jill. But not when they don’t see the ax falling.”

This discussion was a huge waste of time and energy. She’d never convince Becca she’d expressed her unhappiness for well over a year. And Becca would never convince her that Jill had killed the relationship with no warning. “I’m sorry,” she said, not entirely sure what she was apologizing for. “I wish I hadn’t hurt you.”

“Well, you did. Now you can make things worse by forcing me to meet your new girlfriend.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll go get Daisy and meet you on the front porch.”

Becca brushed past her on the way to the door. “That’s even more embarrassing. I’m not going to run out of here like a thief.” She strode down the stairs, chin held high. “This is just like you,” she grumbled, her scolding like nails on a chalkboard. “Sneaking around and…” Jill stopped just short of the kitchen doorway when Becca came to a halt.

Jill hadn’t noticed much about Lizzie when she’d come in. Now that she was sitting on the floor, legs spread wide, with Daisy lying between them, head resting on Lizzie’s thigh, Jill took her in. She was dressed in her usual play clothes: tight jeans and a white ribbed tank top. This one was snug, making it clear she didn’t have a bra on. Lots of thirty-something women dressed like this, but lots of college freshmen did too, and Jill had to admit Lizzie looked like she could have easily been starting her first week at the U.

Daisy jumped up when Becca entered, ran to her and climbed her leg for a scratch. “Down,” Becca said, probably more harshly than she’d intended.

The puppy had learned a lot in a short time, and she sat down, wagging her tail fiercely while she waited for praise. “Good dog,” Becca said, giving her a much needed scratch under her chin.

Lizzie got to her feet and walked over with her hand extended. “Lizzie Davis,” she said, acting like this was just one of Jill’s coworkers who’d dropped by. The woman was remarkably composed for someone her age.

“Becca Hartley,” she said as they shook. “Good to meet you.”

“Same here. Your dog’s adorable.”

Daisy dashed across the tile floor, her big paws slipping as she ran back to jump on Lizzie, begging for attention.

“Down,” Becca chided her. Again, the dog put all four feet on the ground, but couldn’t control that feathered tail. It whipped back and forth so fast it made a whooshing sound. “Thank you,” Becca said. “She’s going to be a good dog.” She patted her thigh and Daisy bounded back to her, then sat at her feet and grinned up at her. It was probably just the way their mouths were formed, but Jill was sure that goldens could actually smile. “Are you ready to head home, little girl?”

“Let me give you a ride,” Jill said. “You don’t want to walk home in the dark.”

“We’re fine,” Becca said briskly. She took Daisy’s leash in her hand and led her to the front door. Jill and Lizzie followed behind, and they paused in the entryway. “Good to meet you, Lizzie. Goodbye, Jill.” Then Becca was out the door, Daisy gamboling down the sidewalk at her side.

“Awk. Ward,” Lizzie grumbled. She headed back to the kitchen, and by the time Jill entered was popping the top off a beer. “How many more times might that happen?” Her gaze moved around Jill’s face as she surveyed her critically. “You’ve surprised me with strange women in your house twice in a couple of weeks. What’s the final tally going to be?”

Jill wasn’t sure what she’d done wrong, but something was stuck in Lizzie’s craw. It seemed like a good idea to give her a minute to herself, so Jill made for the back door. “I bought an extra-long extension cord today. I’ll go plug your car in.”

“We’re taking your car tomorrow. No rush.” She took a long slug of beer. “I’m not the type to tell you who to see, but it might be a good idea to have your ex-lovers over when you know you’re going to be alone. That was really strange, Jill. I didn’t like it.”

“I didn’t invite her!” She knew her cheeks were turning pink, only making her look guilty. “I was out cutting the grass and they showed up.”

“They’ve been here all day?” Now Lizzie’s eyebrows shot up as high as they could go.

“No. Just since dusk. It was almost dark when a dog ran up and started licking my legs.”

“Why’d she come? Does she live close?”

“Not very.” Jill went to the refrigerator and got a beer for herself. After opening it, she took a long drink. “Sure you want to know?”

Lizzie moved to her, gripped her arm and led her to the den, saying, “I want to know a lot. Tonight’s a great time to start.” They sat down, Jill in an upholstered chair, Lizzie on the sofa. “Tell me about the whole roster. I want to know about every woman I might find when I drag my ass over here to
relax
after a long day at work.”

Nervously, Jill took another sip, then put her beer onto the table that separated them. “I can see how annoyed you are, but that’s not really fair. I didn’t invite Becca to come over, but I could hardly turn my back and slam the door in her face. We both have exes, Lizzie. This could easily happen the other way around.”

“Doubtful,” she said, taking another sip, then tucking the beer up against her leg.

Lizzie’d stretched out along the sofa, diverting Jill’s attention as she considered that Lizzie and the boys had a lot in common. They all managed to look long, languid, and collected, even in the most ordinary situations.

“Only Jon lives in Vermont, and he doesn’t know my address”—she frowned crossly—“or want to acknowledge me.”

“You get my point,” Jill said, annoyed at Lizzie’s literal take on the issue.

“I do. But my exes are really exey. I have a feeling yours aren’t.” Her look grew more pointed. “So tell me about them.”

“Fine.” Jill shifted around in the chair, jealous of Lizzie’s ability to get comfortable just about anywhere. “I already told you I dated two women in college.”

“You did. It didn’t sound like you were serious about either of them though.”

Jill shook her head. “That’s not really true, but we don’t need to talk about them. I don’t even know where either of them lives.”

“Tell me about the ones who matter,” Lizzie said, her eyes fixing Jill in place.

“Okay. The first was Jennifer.” Jill thought hard, trying to get the details right. “She was about fifteen years older than me.”

Lizzie blinked in surprise. “Fifteen? And you act like I’m a teenager and you’re a senior citizen because there’s ten years between us?”

“I guess I have a double standard.”

“I’d say so,” she agreed, scowling. Jill hadn’t often seen what she’d characterize as an angry sip, but that’s what Lizzie gave her poor beer.

“I was working on my master’s and she was a physician. We met when we were both volunteering at a women’s health clinic.”

“And what was Jennifer’s lure?” Lizzie asked, still looking at Jill like she was assessing every word.

Shrugging, Jill said, “She was just cool. Even though I’d been sure I was gay for a few years, I was still floundering. Meeting Jennifer showed me how grownups behaved. I really liked being with someone who wasn’t filled with angst about who she was and what she wanted to do with her life.”

“That makes sense. So why am I here?”

Jill smiled at the way she’d put that. “Jennifer’s not here because she needed to be in charge. Of pretty much everything.”

“Which you didn’t like?”

Unable to get comfortable, Jill shifted again, now sitting sideways in the chair, with her legs dangling over one arm. “I liked it in some things. But…not everything.”

“Examples, please.”

Jill nodded. “Big one. She was a golf nut. She’d bought a condo in North Carolina so she could play all year. Within three months of meeting me, I had an excellent set of clubs, was taking lessons twice a week and playing every weekend.”

“So? What’s wrong with golf?”

“I don’t like it,” Jill said, unable to get the look of distaste off her face. “I don’t like anything about it. But Jennifer couldn’t take no for an answer. She was sure I’d like it if I played often enough.”

“No such luck?”

“I devoted two years of my breaks and summer vacations to playing golf. And I’d have to say I liked it less at the end than I had at the beginning.”

“So you broke up because of golf?” Lizzie asked dubiously.

“No, but when I got an offer to go to Middlebury to be an adjunct, I jumped at it. She didn’t want a long distance relationship, so we broke up.”

“Middlebury’s only an hour from here! Lots of people commute every day.”

“Yeah.” Jill nodded. “Gives you an idea of how bonded we were.”

“She just let you go,” Lizzie said, her brows drawn together in thought.

“Well, yes and no. I think she assumed I’d turn down the job if she told me to. She was…surprised when I took it.”

“So she laid down the line and you jumped over it.”

“Kinda. She wasn’t happy with me, I’ll admit to that. And I should also admit to being a wuss. I should have told her more consistently that I needed some space. But I let her run things until I couldn’t take it anymore. That wasn’t fair of me.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Lizzie agreed. “But I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt because you were young. We all screw up when we’re inexperienced. Did you live with her?”

“Not technically. But I was over at her house nearly every night. She probably thought we were more committed to each other than I did.”

“Not good,” Lizzie said, her gaze growing darker.

“No. It wasn’t good. And you’re not going to like the next one, either.”

Lizzie took a drink, then set her bottle down. “Hit me.”

“I didn’t get serious about anyone at Middlebury, but I was far from celibate.”

“Do you think I care about how many people you’ve slept with? Because I don’t. I’m much more concerned about how you treated the people you were with than how many it was.”

“Good,” she said nodding, hoping Lizzie didn’t ask for a number, because she truly didn’t have one—other than kind of a lot. “I stayed at Middlebury for two years, then took a job at Dartmouth.”

“Got it. Still teaching?”

“Uh-huh. Still an adjunct. But they promised the opportunity to move to tenure track when one of the tenured professors retired or left.”

“Okay. You’re at Dartmouth. Who caught your eye? Given that I won’t like it, I assume it was a freshman.”

“No,” Jill said. “I was never into students, but dating one would have been a better idea than what I did.” Her mouth was bone dry. Not even a sip of beer helped. But she had to spit this out. “I fell in love with a married woman.”

“Oh, fuck,” Lizzie grumbled. “That’s bad. Really bad.”

“I know. Believe me. I know. We were friends for months. Just friends. Then her husband left for a tour of duty in Afghanistan and we started spending all of our free time together. Things got…out of control.”